"Be quiet, Gian," said the lady who had just spoken, "it is we who have to thank Signor di Savelli for rescuing us."
"Your pardon, signore; but we heard the ladies cry out, and seeing you here----"
"Where you should have been," I interrupted, "you lag too far behind your mistress."
The dark-haired girl, who had up to now not spoken, but, with her face very pale, was playing with a bracelet on her wrist, now looked up.
"I think we had better get back, we will not trouble this--this gentleman further. He has already done too much for us."
She dropped me a proud little curtsey, and turned away, but her friend frankly held out her hand. "Believe me, Signor di Savelli--I heard you so called--my cousin Angiola and I are both very grateful. She is a good deal upset by what has happened, and I speak for her. My husband," she went on hurriedly, "has much influence, and if any word----"
She stopped a little helplessly, and seeing she had observed my appearance, and anxious to end the affair, I cut in--
"Madam, I did nothing but drive off a cur--you thank me too much. Good day!"
I stood cap in hand until they turned the elbow of the walk, and then retraced my steps to my lodging. As I went back, I could not help railing at my luck. I was enabled to do a service, which, for no reason I could assign, I would rather have done to this particular woman than any other--a service which should have made her look kindly at me, and yet by a cruel stroke she was made to think me nothing else but a thief, for Luigi's charge was definite, and it was clear I knew him. My name was also known to her, and perhaps the rest of my story, as it was understood by the public, would be told to her, and then, adieu to my little romance, if it was not adieu already. Then again what business had I to have any such thoughts? I had yet to learn that these things come unbidden, and when they come, take no denial. Thinking in this way as I walked on, I was surprised to find I had reached the old Albizzi Palace. This building, like all the other houses of the nobles of Florence, was fortified with braccia or towers, joined to each other by bridges. These towers formed refuges during interurban wars, and stood many a siege from the people. The Albizzi Palace had four such braccia, but the two towards the Ultrarno quarter had been half demolished in some forgotten riot, and never restored. The others were however intact, although the bridge between them had long since given way. It was in one of these that I had my abode, and reaching it about sundown, began to slowly ascend the dark stairs which led to my chamber. Occasionally I stopped and rested, and it was during one of these rests that I looked up to the landing above me. It was still in light; for the setting sun shone through a giglio shaped window in the western wall. As I glanced up, a figure suddenly appeared at the head of the stairway, and leaning one hand on the balustrade, peered down into the dim light below it. I recognised the extraordinary dress at once, and a moment's survey of the face assured me it was my host of the hovel, he who had so strangely disappeared with the girl, when I fought with Brico at Perugia.
"A good day to you, friend!" I called out, "and well met."